Out of Africa

It's fitting that I'm writing this in Granada, and have eye balled Africa today from Tarifa,  the southern most point of Europe.  But I decided on the title for this post as we were speeding through the Portuguese countryside from Lisbon to the Algarve.  With its prairie style with straw-like grass and spread out trees, I expected a lion to prowl out at any moment.  Fortunately, the most dangerous thing in Spain is the hairy caterpillar.  Oops, we were in Portugal.

We stopped in Grandola for lunch, for no reason other than we were hungry and it was there.  Grandola is one of those towns where old men sit in a row outside all the cafes and watch the world (i.e. three blonde chicks from NZ) go by.  We found a nice local cafe with a very friendly Romanian waitress (she came for vacation several years in a row, married a nice Portuguese boy, had a child, and is now Portuguese).  We were her very first customers from New Zealand.  In between taking our order and bringing our drinks, she Googled New Zealand.  "Why would people from NZ travel to Portugal?!" she asked.

The spot we booked in the Algarve turned out very well (except for the hotel, but I've complained about that elsewhere).  Alvor Bay is a nice little fishing village.  It's full of British tourists, but I felt it was less so than other places.  I spoke to several couples in the lift who are regulars and have noticed more "sports bars for young people like you [me] have popped up in recent years".  Clearly, they were very perceptive...

We had a lazy morning with a walk along the beach through the crevices and caves to get to more and more beaches.  Despite the presence of other tourists and a little cafe tucked into the rocks, it felt like we'd found a secret place.  I had a swim back in the hotel pool and a nice relax in the sun.

Late afternoon, we headed out to the western most point of Portugal (and Europe?) where there is a lighthouse and great views up the west coast and along the south coast with cliffs and crashing waves.  For our entertainment, some locals had climbed down the cliff to a precarious perch and were fishing.  Apparently this is quite common, but they usually prefer to do this at night!

There are some nice viewing spots (and forts) along the way back to Sagres where we stopped for dinner (Chiringuito Last Chance) after a wander along the beach and the sunset-gold cliffs .  It was a little difficult to find, but it was worth it.  We had tapas of cucumber, cheese and salmon; tuna, tomato on bread; dates in bacon; tomato and mozzarella; baked camembert with honey and walnuts; and goats cheese with fig jam on toast.  They were all delicious, but the last was so good that we ordered seconds.

Our last day in Algarve started with a sailing trip along the coast.  We had thought that we were going to the caves, but we headed the other direction.  It was a lovely day,  including a swim, and an attempt at sail power (basically we drifted for an hour).  The skipper was a Brit and first mate a Portuguese surfie, who was full of information about history and fishing and Portugal.  In the off-season, he catches fish to sell to restaurants.  This includes, spear fishing and free diving for barnacles.  These are both slightly hazardous.

Then, it was back to Spain.  All of the people we have talked to about Portuguese history have talked about the importance of Africa - as a colony, and as the conquering Moors.  It is tempting to think of Africa for its poverty and for tribal society.  But they once ruled much of Europe and their impact on the nation can still be seen - especially in the architecture  (tiles are everywhere).